


Weathering the Storm

by truth_renowned



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-22 23:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: A storm outside leads to fluff and honest talk inside.





	Weathering the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MBlair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MBlair/gifts).



> Many beta thanks to lillianmmalter, whose advice is always on point and always appreciated.

Daniel pushed open the front door, letting Peggy hurry into the house first. He followed close behind, slamming the door shut lest any of the wind-driven rain get inside. It was a short walk from his car, but the sky had opened up on them. In the time Peggy had been in Los Angeles, there were a few rainstorms but nothing of this caliber.

“I thought it only rained sideways in England,” she said, glancing down at her dress, which now had a haphazard polka dot pattern thanks to the rain. “And where in the bloody hell did that storm come from? It was sunny at lunch time.”

Daniel set down the portable typewriter, then peeled off his soaked suit jacket. “California’s sneaky that way. Weather can change in minutes.”

“They why don’t you carry an umbrella in your car?” she asked, setting down his heavy attaché case.

“I keep forgetting it,” he answered.

A booming clap of thunder made Peggy flinch as she slipped off her shoes. “I hate thunder.”

He looked at her, surprised. “It’s the weather. It’s science. I learned that early on. Ma always said to count one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two and so on. The less time in between claps meant the storm was getting closer.”

“My mum took the fear approach. She said it was God getting angry with me for misbehaving. It rained a lot in Hampstead, and I misbehaved a lot, so her tactic worked.”

He slipped an arm around her waist, a smirk firmly planted on his lips. “You’re not scared of a little thunder, are you, Peg? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

She lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh, bugger off.”

He chuckled as he walked to the fireplace. “I thought about setting up in the kitchen, but maybe in here would be better. I’ll get a fire going. You okay typing on the cocktail table?”

“Fine with me,” she replied, the proximity to the fire being more important to her than typing comfort.

The idea was to come to his house to prepare for the audit coming in a week. A real audit this time, not a tactic to divert their attention. This audit was ordered by their new superior in Washington, someone named William Cooper. She’d done some digging and he seemed on the up and up: retired Army general hired on to the War Department in a management position, a real ‘go-getter,’ working his way up in the four years he’d been there. Her contacts told her he was appalled by the corruption involved around Vernon Masters, firing people left and right, but that could be a ruse. They needed to keep an eye on him but in the meantime, they had to play by his rules, which meant a complete audit of all paperwork.

So Daniel had Rose pull all of the files, especially the ones since the ‘audit’ from Vernon’s men. He knew most of the files were solid -- he ran a tight ship, after all -- but in the months since, they were more lax. He wanted to make sure every ‘t’ was crossed and every ‘i’ was dotted. A dozen files didn’t pass muster as far as Rose was concerned, so it was up to Daniel to fix them. Peggy offered her help, as her typing skills were better than his. The added bonus was that it meant some alone time, even if it involved work.

“You go change,” he said as he picked up a box of long matches from the mantle.

She planted a quick kiss on his cheek before walking around the couch and down the hall. Just before his bedroom was a linen closet, and she grabbed two towels from it, then quietly walked back into the living room. 

As she reached the couch, she saw him bent over, stoking the fire with a poker.

“Daniel?”

He straightened up and turned just as she tossed a towel, which hit him squarely in the face.

She laughed as he took the towel and scowled at her.

“Oh, bugger off,” he said in a terrible British accent.

She kept laughing as she moved back down the hall to the bedroom. Though officially she was still staying at Howard’s, she did have some clothing stored in Daniel’s closet, including a few dresses and a jumpsuit. She opened the closet door and withdrew the jumpsuit, then walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light.

After closing the door behind her, she cringed at what she saw the mirror. All of the curl was gone from her hair, and a single mascara streak was making its way down her cheek. She ran a towel through her hair, then used a tissue to remove as much of the mascara as she could. 

As she undressed, she was relieved that even though her dress, nylons and slip were wet, her bra and underwear mostly were spared from the rain. She quickly donned the jumpsuit, a navy blue number with cap sleeves and gold button accents at the waist.

Removing the towels from the towel rack, she draped her dress and slip over the metal bar, followed by the nylons on top of the slip. She gave herself another once-over and judged herself presentable.

Exiting the bathroom, she flinched as an especially loud clap of thunder reverberated through the house.

“It’s getting closer,” Daniel said from the vicinity of his bedroom. “Almost right over us.”

Following his voice, she found him at the bedroom closet, his rain-splotched pants and shirt hanging over the closet door. He’d already changed into fresh tan pants and an unbuttoned Aloha shirt. Her stomach did a little flip at the sight of his bare chest.

He shot her a cocky grin. “Stare much?” 

“Only when I see something I like,” she said, approaching him and running a finger along his collarbone.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, reveling in the heat of his skin against her jumpsuit and wishing more than anything for the jumpsuit to disappear. He must have used the towel to dry off his hair, which was disheveled and curling on the ends. 

“I like the curls,” she said, her fingers flicking the edges of his hair. “They’re sexy.”

His eyebrows rose, curious.

“Very sexy,” she added before touching her lips to his.

It wasn’t possible for her to ever tire of kissing Daniel. They’d been together for months but each kiss felt like the first one. It was a whole-body experience for her, feeling bliss from her head through her toes. The way his hands settled at the small of her back, pulling her closer, made her feel both content and intoxicated.

The loudest clap of thunder yet completely ruined the mood. She pulled back just in time to see the light flicker, then go out. In a split-second, the bedroom went from being dimly lit to dark as pitch, minus the tiniest bit of moonlight illuminating the curtained window in the corner. 

“Well,” she said, “that’s a new development.”

“Never a dull moment in sunny California.”

Daniel shifted, and Peggy pulled from his embrace.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Put your hand on my shoulder and follow me,” he replied, then led her out of the bedroom. 

She could hear the end of his crutch tap against the wall; he was using it as a guide. It worked, as they made it down the hall without stumbling or running into anything.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“A few times,” he replied as they arrived in the kitchen.

She heard the opening and closing of drawers, then the sound of their contents being rifled through.

“Aha!” He withdrew something that turned out to be a torch, which he turned on immediately and put on the counter, beam up. 

He then opened another drawer and grabbed a pair of squat faceted-glass candle holders and two plain white candles, along with a book of matches. She took the holders while he put the candles in his pocket. 

The beam from the torch led them into the living room, where the fire was crackling and casting shadowy light over the couch, armchair and cocktail table. She placed the holders on the table, and he slid the candles into place as more thunder bellowed. While he lit the candles and checked the fire, she went to the window, pulling the curtains aside. She seemed to remember a street lamp at the end of the block, almost visible from his porch, but she couldn’t see that it was on. Nothing shone outside but faint threads of moonlight. 

Daniel moved beside her, his shirt now buttoned. “Lights are definitely out.” He pointed to the house across the street. “Mrs. O’Connell never has her porch light off at night. Says it keeps the hooligans away.”

Peggy looked at him, eyebrow quirked. “Hooligans? In this neighborhood?”

“Her word, not mine.” He shrugged. “She’s old and Irish. Everyone my age and younger is a hooligan.”

She smiled as she walked to the couch, sitting down and curling her legs under her. Daniel sat next to her, and she snuggled against him. His arm immediately went around her.

“Want to work by candlelight?” she asked.

“Not really.”

“Good.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting herself relax as she listened to the hiss of the torrential rain outside in between claps of thunder. Mother Nature was providing them a much-needed break. The audit, combined with the continued search for Jack’s shooter, had left them mentally and physically exhausted. But still they pushed forward, seldom taking a break other than to sleep. Moments like these didn’t happen often enough, so she savored them like a fine brandy. 

_When was the last time I felt so comfortable_ , she thought. Not just on the couch, but with her life. Despite the overload of work, despite the myriad dangers they’d faced in the past few months, she felt her life coming into focus. For the longest time, she was all work all the time. She’d had little time -- and truthfully, little desire -- to do or think about anything other than work, moving like a whirlwind from one case to another. Being with Daniel brought a calm she hadn’t experienced in years. 

She felt herself drifting off, the warmth from the fire and Daniel relaxing her fully. She jerked awake at the sound of his voice:

“Peg?”

She hummed a reply just as thunder rumbled, seeming more distant, as if turning off the electricity was the storm’s job and now it had other places to be.

“Do you think this job, here in LA, was ever really mine?” he asked.

She started at his words, lifting her head from his shoulder and meeting his gaze. The naked vulnerability in his expression shocked her for a moment. It was obvious to her that he hadn’t shared this with anyone, not even Violet. He wanted to appear the pillar of strength, which he was, but beneath the surface were insecurities. That was true for most people, but she knew his ran deep, down to his soul. The fact that he felt safe enough with her to share those insecurities warmed her far more than the fire could.

“Of course the job was, and is, yours,” she said firmly.

“I think it was part of Masters’ plan all along. Give the cripple a big job and he’ll be in your pocket.”

“No, I don’t believe that at all.” She shifted on the couch, turning her body more to face him. “You’re by far the best man for the job. You’ve proven that.”

“You’re biased.”

She smiled. “Perhaps, but I am one-hundred percent sure no one could do a better job than you.”

“But that’s not why I’m chief. I know Masters was behind it. Jack was his yes man. He thought he’d have another one, that I’d be so grateful for the job, I’d do anything he wanted.”

“He underestimated you.”

“Everyone does.”

“I don’t,” she replied. “I never have.”

“You’re the exception, not the rule.”

Peggy shook her head. “Not true. I hear your agents talking. They respect you. They see you as a superior, not some ‘cripple,’ as you put it. I hate that word, by the way.”

He huffed out a wry laugh. “Not my favorite word, either. Still, I can’t help feeling that this was planned.” He sighed. “I really thought I’d earned the chief position.” 

“You did, Daniel. Every bit of it. And Vernon Masters is gone.”

“It’s coming from higher up, Peg. You know that.”

She agreed, though she didn’t voice it. Her gut had told her that ever since she found out Masters was involved with the Council of Nine. They were not the only ones behind the corruption. Masters and the Council were simply pawns in whatever twisted chess game that person, or persons, was playing.

“And,” he continued, “I’m convinced that’s why we haven’t solved Jack’s attempted murder. Every time we seem to catch a break, it’s one step forward and five steps back.”

“I wouldn’t say five steps. Maybe three.” She leaned more into him. “And this isn’t all on you. I’m in it, too. I placed myself right in the middle of it.”

“Because of me and my request for help.”

“Because Whitney Frost was drunk with power and Zero Matter. And it was Jack who sent me, so if you want to blame anyone, blame him.”

“I like that idea,” he said with a smile, which quickly faded. “You know, sometimes I feel like George Mallory trying to climb Mount Everest. Failure after failure, and then--”

“No,” she replied sharply. She knew the direction he was headed and she wouldn’t allow it. She refused to let him admit defeat. Mallory never did, despite his numerous attempts. It was never determined if Mallory made it to the top before he disappeared on the mountain in 1924, but Peggy doubted he admitted defeat even as the final breath left his body.

But she understood Daniel’s concern. They had no idea who they were up against. Whoever was behind all of this was like a magician, making leads vanish with a masterful sleight of hand. But she wouldn’t let that derail Daniel, or her, for that matter. 

Jack had to know something, though he insisted he’d told Peggy and Daniel everything he knew about Masters and his cronies. There had to be something in Jack’s brain, some insignificant detail, that would point them in the right direction, but so far...

“I am like Mallory,” Daniel said, pulling her from her thoughts. “He faced a threat he couldn’t handle.”

“ _We_ are not facing Mother Nature,” Peggy answered, putting added emphasis on ‘we’. “We are facing human beings, with human faults. We know what they’re capable of, but I know we can defeat them.”

He shrugged, obviously unconvinced.

“You know what?” she added. “You are like George Mallory, but not in the way you think. You’re one of the most tenacious individuals I’ve ever met.” She smiled. “Second only to me, of course.”

“Of course,” he said lightly.

“But unlike Mallory, you never underestimate your obstacles. Whatever it is, you look at it from all angles and you set out a plan to conquer it.” 

His lifted eyebrow told her he didn’t believe a word she was saying.

“You do, Daniel. You were dealt an awful hand during the war, but you came back and became an agent. Very few men in your situation could do that. You were promoted and made this office shine. You were given challenge after challenge and you faced them head-on.”

“I don’t always succeed.”

“Who does?” Trying to lighten the mood, she added, “And besides, you got the girl, didn’t you?”

Something changed in his expression, a softness deleting the fine lines on his forehead, a depth in his eyes she couldn’t remember ever seeing.

“Peg, I have never seen you as a conquest. I see you as a gift.”

She felt tears forming, and she swallowed to keep them at bay. Once she trusted her voice, she said, “You’re not alone, Daniel. You have me at your side. As a team, we can conquer anything or anyone.”

His fingers swept over her cheek. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I’m always right,” she said with a grin.

He laughed, and she was waiting for one of his sassy responses when the lights flickered twice, then came on at full strength.

“That wasn’t too bad,” he said. “Usually it’s hours.”

“We should get to work then.”

Neither of them made a move to get up.

“The lights could go off again.” He paused, then added unconvincingly, “It happens.” 

As if he needed to talk her into staying. She wanted to be here for the rest of the evening, work be damned.

“So we should stay put?” she ventured.

“For a little bit. Just in case.”

She nodded against his shoulder. They sat in a comfortable silence save the crackling of the fire and the now-occasional clap of thunder. The storm would continue around them, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle together.

**Author's Note:**

> Historical perspective:
> 
> The first successful attempt at climbing to the summit of Mount Everest didn’t happen until 1953 with Sir Edmund Hillary’s team. However, there were multiple attempts by a British team that included George Mallory. Sadly, Mallory and one of his teammates, Andrew Irvine, died on the mountain in 1924. Mallory’s body was found in 1999 just 800 feet from the top, but there was no evidence that he and Irvine reached the summit before succumbing. 
> 
> More info: <https://explorerspassage.com/chronicles/history-mount-everest/> and <https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/science/science-news/7946840/Mallory-and-Irvine-could-not-have-reached-Everest-summit-claim-scientists.html>


End file.
